


and when your eyes catch mine, i know i talk too much; bbangnyu

by kwanies



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M, bbangnyu, chanhee's rlly whipped for younghoon but they're both COWARDS n won't make moves, soft, softsoftsoft this whole thing is just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwanies/pseuds/kwanies
Summary: younghoon talks a lot, too. chanhee figured out over time that it’s a nervous habit of his, overspeaking to make up for not actually knowing what to say. in a moment of bravery, he presses two fingers to the boy’s lips.“you’re doing it,” he says. “talking too much.” younghoon swallows.“i’m nervous.”





	and when your eyes catch mine, i know i talk too much; bbangnyu

**Author's Note:**

> hi i've never written for these two before AND i was too tired to proofread (oops) so please don't beat my ass if this is bad

> _ so give me your two lips, and baby i'll shut up _

the moon bleeds, glimmering yellowish-white over the water. chanhee’s heart bleeds, too. red and sticky, lining the tiles, smudged in some spots and pressed with fingerprints. he swallows. he can smell younghoon’s shampoo, and his stomach twists when he recognizes it as his own.

“why did we even come here?” he starts, trying to distract himself. “it’s the middle of december.”

“i think summer should be year-round.”

“right, well. it’s not. and i’m cold as hell.”

younghoon looks over at him, and he’s got that horrible smile, that one that’s so pretty it makes chanhee’s lungs burn. the latter tries not to look back, just stares down into the chlorine and watches the way his feet move under the water. the blue shifts, his skin looks green.

when younghoon had suggested that they sneak out his backdoor and  _ go somewhere _ , chanhee didn’t think that  _ somewhere _ would’ve been the local indoor pool. changmin works as a lifeguard here (easy work, since no one is really looking to swim in the middle of winter) and younghoon just so  _ happens _ to have the spare key -  _ so technically, we’re not breaking in, _ he’d said.

it’s actually sort of nice, chanhee thinks. the ceiling is made of glass and lets all the stars peek through, and he likes the way younghoon’s eyes shine when he looks up at them. he likes it, but he hates it. who let one person be that beautiful? it’s upsetting, honestly.

“we can go back, if you’re cold.”

“no,” he says, almost too quickly. “i mean, we can stay a little longer.”

he’s not that cold, actually, he’s really hot. like, burning up. he feels feverish. heat slips underneath his skin like a thin sheet and burns him from the inside out; every now and then younghoon will shift a little and their arms will brush, and there’s a spike like hot coals being thrown around inside chanhee’s chest.

whoever said that being in love is a wonderful feeling was full of  _ shit _ , he decides. this is miserable. he’s head over heels and choking on dirt at the same time.

they talk like nothing is out of the ordinary, though, keeping their conversation along the lines of regular and laughing at all the right moments. it’s fine, but it’s also not; chanhee starts to get agitated by it, because talking is  _ too much _ right now, and would it be so bad for them to just sit quietly? for younghoon to hold him silently and tightly and kiss him on the top of his head, the corner of his eye, his  _ mouth _ -

_ it’s hard to talk when your lips are on someone else’s _ , he thinks.

younghoon doesn’t hold him, though, and he doesn’t kiss him. he just keeps talking. chanhee zones out after a little while, and he doesn’t realize it until the other boy nudges him.

“huh? sorry, what were you saying?” younghoon looks amused, and chanhee can’t tell if he’s turning red out of embarrassment or fondness. both, probably. definitely both.

“it doesn’t matter. it was dumb.”

“no, tell me.”

younghoon blinks at him once, twice, before his eyes flicker back down to his lap. the pool lights shine up at him and soften all his edges, chanhee notices. they make his cheeks look fuller, his eyes a little brighter; he glows, almost, and chanhee wants to tear himself apart at the sight of him.

“you’re gonna laugh at me,” younghoon says, and his voice is impossibly soft.

“i won’t,” chanhee promises. “and if i do, then you have full permission to throw me in the water.” younghoon laughs a little, still hesitating.

“i was just saying … you’re like, i dunno. like an angel?” chanhee stills, everything in him stopping to listen. “i was thinking about it the other day - you, i was thinking about you - and like, i just  _ feel _ it. you’re so smart and kind, and honest, too. your heart is like … i can’t even explain it. it’s so different.”

chanhee’s quiet for a while, trying to process it -  _ this is friendly, this is friendly, don’t overthink it you stupid, dumb, lovesick idiot this is just friendly  _ -

“lots of people are smart and kind,” he says. “ _ and _ honest. i’m not special.”

younghoon insists, “but you  _ are _ . lots of people are smart and kind and honest, but they’re still nothing like you. i told you, i can’t explain it. i just feel it, here.” he grabs for chanhee’s hand and presses it to his chest, and every nerve inside him explodes when he realizes he can feel the boy’s heartbeat. “angels are really pretty, too,” younghoon adds. “you’re really pretty.”

chanhee takes too long to respond - he’s busy thinking over those words and trying to calm his heart rate - and by the time he can even think to say  _ you’re really pretty, too _ , younghoon has already moved on. he stands, shaking the water off his legs and slipping his socks back on. chanhee frowns - partly at them leaving already, and partly at the thought of putting socks on over wet feet.

“we should get going,” younghoon says. “it’s late.”

_ i thought you liked it here _ , chanhee is ready to say, but then younghoon holds out his hand for him to grab and his mind blanks. “you’re still staying the night, right?” he says, hoisting him up. chanhee snorts.

“i mean, there’s no way i’m gonna try and sneak back into my house at this hour. my mom would wonder what the hell i was doing.”

“that’s it? you’re not just really hyped to spend the night with me, right?” younghoon wiggles his eyebrows while he bends down to tie his laces, and chanhee knows he’s joking but the question still catches him by surprise. he chokes mid-swallow. younghoon laughs at him.

“kidding. sort of. maybe.”

they do this a lot, this thing where they sort of flirt with each other - but it’s never serious, always playful. chanhee sometimes wonders where the line can be drawn, though, between playful and something a little more.

outside, it’s fucking  _ cold _ . feelings aside, chanhee’s persistent adoration for younghoon can’t keep him warm in the december frost, and all the nerves he’s sweating out just seem to freeze along his skin. when he shivers, younghoon notices and pulls him against his side.

he forgets to breathe for a moment; they’ve been close before, but oxygen seems to disappear every time they touch anyway, and his lungs go flat. younghoon holds him impossibly close, pulling him in so that his stupidly thin jacket can fit around both of them, and every time chanhee tries to inhale it just smells like the other boy’s laundry detergent. fresh and flowery. heart-stopping.

younghoon talks the whole way back to his house, going on about  _ this _ and  _ that _ , something dumb juyeon did earlier that day and how he laughed so hard his stomach started hurting, and chanhee is _ so lost _ . lost in the feeling of younghoon’s arm around his shoulders, the creases of his eyes and how he’s smiling so big, and  _ god, he wants to see him smile like that forever. _

forever. seeing younghoon like this makes chanhee want him forever.

desire is terrible. it doesn’t matter how close they get, he’ll always wish for more.

more, like when they finally slip past the door and make it back to younghoon’s bedroom, and the latter is busy changing into sweatpants and chanhee just watches him, unmoving; more, like when younghoon stops searching his drawers for different shirt and starts watching chanhee, too, and all he wants is to kiss the boy square on the mouth.

“your face is pink,” younghoon points out, and chanhee sounds a little breathless when he answers.

“yeah. it’s cold.”

“just cold?”

“what else?”

younghoon closes the drawer without saying anything and steps a little closer. all of a sudden, something about this feels heavy, important; chanhee’s aware of it right down to the shift in air between them. right down to the way younghoon’s fingers twitch at his side, and how it’s three, four, five seconds before he takes another step, and suddenly those fingers are brushing chanhee’s cheek. he inhales sharply.

“what else?” he asks again.

“i don’t know. i mean, i know. i think. i don’t know.”

“you’re confusing me?”

“i’m confusing myself.”

younghoon’s thumb presses the spot under his eye, moving to the slope of his nose and down to his cupid’s bow. it isn’t until he asks, “why aren’t you breathing?” that chanhee realizes he was holding his breath. when he doesn’t get an answer, younghoon continues, “i heard this song the other day, and it made me think of you. it was the sort of music i know you like.”

stars, younghoon has starry eyes. it’s like he stared up at the sky long enough to swallow them all up with his gaze, and now they belong to him.

“it was … like, gentle, and soft and the vocals were so clear. and pretty. it was a pretty song.”

younghoon talks a lot, too. chanhee figured out over time that it’s a nervous habit of his, overspeaking to make up for not actually knowing what to say. in a moment of bravery, he presses two fingers to the boy’s lips.

“you’re doing it,” he says. “talking too much.” younghoon swallows.

“i’m nervous.”

“why?”

“because, i - because i like you.”

the world is so, so still; he can’t see them, but chanhee would guess that even the leaves on the trees outside have stopped shifting. it’s just the two of them standing with two heartbeats between them, too afraid to actually say anything.

so, instead of speaking, chanhee pushes himself up on the tips of his toes and presses a soft, chaste kiss to younghoon’s lips. it’s quick, and he almost laughs when he pulls away and sees the look on the boy’s face.

“all that talking you do,” he smiles, “and it took you  _ so _ long to say that.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just !! love them !!!! my softie babies aaa they're so cute n i reallyyy wanted to write something for them, even if it did turn out pretty short and simple hh
> 
> come talk to me !! -
> 
> twitter: cheniuvrs  
tumblr: 04ngel


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